


Thiry-one days, thirty-one nights

by fireplanetz



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Bromance, Fantasy AU, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Writober 2020, coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:36:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26765179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fireplanetz/pseuds/fireplanetz
Summary: A collection of Convin/Reed800 prompts from Writober! I missed the Convin September event so I'm going to be doing this for the month of October!...Prompts from @fanwriter.it on Twitter
Relationships: Connor/Gavin Reed
Comments: 13
Kudos: 37





	1. Backstory

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt for Day 1: Backstory
> 
> Connor learns how Gavin got his scar.
> 
> ...
> 
> Content warnings for this chapter: mentions of broken bones, past domestic violence

“I used to do gymnastics.”

Connor raised an eyebrow, looking at Gavin in disbelief. “Oh?”

“Yeah. Almost qualified for state once.” Gently, Gavin moved his arm out from under Connor’s head, raising it to look at his wrist. “Fell off the beam my first year of college. My arm snapped in three places.”

Connor’s gaze followed Gavin’s to the older man’s arm, where an old scar stretched from the base of his thumb to the middle of his forearm. The android traced it with his fingers, feeling the way the skin went from soft to rough. He listened in silence as Gavin continued, “I was out of training for six months after the surgery. All my teammates were so far ahead of me, so I quit. Told my parents that the pain made it hard to train. That part is somewhat true. It aches when the weather turns cold, and I’m always the first to know when snow is on the way.”

There was no trace of bitterness in Gavin’s voice, just a calm acceptance. Connor let his hand trail up Gavin’s arm until their fingers linked together. He’d never know what it was like to break a bone. To feel the fragility of the human body. His arms could break, but he’d never feel the pain. And there was always a replacement part in a warehouse somewhere.

Connor tilted his head to the side to rest it on Gavin’s shoulder. They were laying in the detective’s bed together, listening to the patter of rain on the windows and talking. Just talking. Connor loved these moments - when the two of them were alone with the world. Exploring each other’s bodies and minds in ways that Connor never thought possible.

Gavin let out a shaky sigh, his eyes still watching their interlocked hands. Connor noticed his heart rate increased, sensing it as clearly as if it were his own.

“After college I moved in with a guy I thought I loved.” Gavin began, his voice strained and quiet, “I thought he loved me, too. We fought almost every day. One night he got drunk and threw a glass at me. It shattered and cut up my face pretty bad. Broke my nose and nearly blinded me.”

Connor tightened his grip on Gavin’s hand, a silent offering of comfort. Gavin squeezed his hand back, running his thumb over the back of the android’s hand. “I left the next day. Never heard from him again. The scar has never gone away, though. But, you know what? I kind of like it. It reminds me that I’ll never let anyone hurt me again. For a long time I thought that meant closing myself off to people forever. I thought that if I didn’t let anyone in, no one could hurt me. Until I met you.”

Connor raised himself up until he was looking down at Gavin, who looked up at him with misty eyes. Leaning down, Connor pressed a kiss to Gavin’s lips, cupping the side of his face with his hand. “I’d never hurt you, Gavin. Not ever. I love you.”

A smile played at the edge of Gavin’s mouth and Connor felt his heart skip a beat at the sight.

“I know.”


	2. Domestic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt for Day 2: Domestic
> 
> No content warnings for this chapter!

Connor couldn’t help but smile to himself as he poured hot tea from the kettle into a small cup. Orange and cinnamon - Gavin’s favorite. Steam rose from the cup as Connor placed it on a dish, careful not to let any spill over the sides. He knew Gavin wouldn’t care if he made a slight mess, but Connor liked things to be perfect. Besides, he had the advantage of being perfectly balanced.

He pushed through the double doors of the kitchen and padded silently down the hall to Gavin’s office. He stopped in the doorway, tea in hand, and watched as his husband typed quietly at his computer. The office was located at the back of their house with a perfect view of the back yard through ceiling-high windows. Connor could see the autumn leaves swirling in the wind outside, slowly collecting on the cropped grass of the lawn. He made a note to ask the gardener not to take the leaves to the compost next weekend. 

Gavin was a silhouette in front of the window, leaning his chin on one hand as he typed slowly with the other. His glasses, which he had been favoring more and more lately, rested just above the bridge of his nose.

He was so focused that he didn’t notice Connor admiring him from the doorway. Crossing the room, the android placed the cup and saucer gently on the desk beside Gavin. The older man grunted in acknowledgment, blinking slowly as he read his work. 

“Making progress?” Connor asked, moving to sit on the edge of the desk and letting his legs sway back and forth. He didn’t want to look at the computer screen and be able to see what Gavin wrote. He always liked it when his husband explained it himself.

“Stuck on the beginning of this chapter.” Gavin muttered, scratching his graying beard idly, “Do I start with introspection or jump straight into the dialogue?”

Connor tilted his head to the side, looking out the window as he pondered the question. “You know me - always eager to get to the point.”

Gavin leaned forward and typed a few lines onto the page, chewing on his bottom lip as he wrote. After a few moments he sat back in his chair and looked up at Connor, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Thanks for the tea.” 

“I know the taste of tea always brings out the best in your writing.” Connor smiled back, “I can always guess exactly which chapters you wrote while sipping some oolong.” 

“That’s because those chapters are shit,” Gavin laughed, “I fucking hate oolong.”

“I made your favorite this time.” The android leaned back on his palms, eyeing Gavin mischievously.

“Thanks, my love.” Gavin reached for the mug and took a satisfied sip. He glanced at his watch, eyes widening. “Jesus, it’s almost noon.”

Connor nodded, “You’ve been favoring the mornings as of late. Old age finally getting to you?”

“Shut up.” Gavin snorted, “I’m not even sixty yet.”

“Give or take a few years.”

Gavin rolled his eyes and set the cup back down. “What time does Allison’s flight get in?”

“Three. I scheduled for the car to pick her up.” Connor assured him, “She says Ollie is finally old enough to get his own seat on the plane.”

Gavin smiled at that, “Christ, who would have thought? It’s like only yesterday she brought him home from the hospital.”

“You still have time to teach him his first swear word.” Connor joked, “You promised Allison you’d be the one to get him to say ‘fuck’.”

“Because it’s a great word. I use it all the time. I want our grandson to learn from the best.” 

It was Connor’s turn to roll his eyes, feigning annoyance at Gavin’s words. He remembered when Allison was still in diapers and she overheard Gavin telling off a delivery boy. “Fuck-head” and “dipshit” were her favorite words for a month. Their daughter had every ounce of a sailor-mouth that her father did. Connor wasn’t angry though. He could never be angry - not with Gavin or Allison. He loved them too much.

With a grunt, Connor hopped off the desk and leaned down to kiss Gavin. The human had certainty aged in the years that they’d been together; his hair had turned gray and the skin around his eyes and mouth had started to wrinkle, but Connor loved him all the same. Connor smiled against Gavin’s lips, pressing a hungrier kiss to his mouth.

“Oh, you  _ are _ eager.” Gavin murmured, “Let me finish this chapter at least.”

Connor smiled again and pulled away, leaving Gavin to finish his work. Yes, Gavin had aged, but he was still the same asshole that Connor had fallen in love with.


	3. Garden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connor is terrified of the thought of a real relationship with Gavin, so he decides to create an AI to practice with.
> 
> Heavily inspired by the Zen Garden scenes from Detroit Evolution!
> 
> No content warnings!

Connor was fucked.

He wished he could go back to the days that he lived in blissful ignorance, thinking that there was nothing more than friendship between him and a certain boisterous detective. In the months since he had been working at the precinct, granted a permanent position as a homicide detective, something like friendship had blossomed between him and Gavin.

It had been a relief to wipe the slate clean and forget their past rivalry, both of them apologizing for their actions before the revolution and forgiving each other for their mistakes. Connor had been delighted to find that Gavin was as eager to start over as he was, but now he felt like he might have made a grave error. 

He thought he did everything right. Bringing coffee on the mornings that the detective looked especially tired, meeting him in the break room to chat about work and life, and even visiting his apartment to meet Gavin’s infamous cats. He thought that the knotting in his stomach and the way his heart pounded around Gavin every time he saw him was normal. He even started to think that his mouth going dry and his hands shaking was something wrong with his processing systems. It wasn’t until he mentioned it to Hank that he realized he was fucking smitten.

Hank had reacted in the way you would expect. Shocked, baffled, briefly angry, and then somewhat understanding. Connor was like a son to him and so he wanted him to be happy. If that meant pursuing a relationship with someone was insufferable as Gavin, then so be it. 

The problem was, Connor had no fucking idea how to go about pursing Gavin. The thought of it made him feel so nervous that he was worried he might self destruct from the stress. Integrating with humans was a large part of his program, but falling in love with one was so far out of his realm of understanding that sometimes he wished he had never deviated in the first place. 

He just had no idea what to  _ do. _ Gavin wasn’t exactly the most approachable person in the world. Even though they had become something like friends, Connor hardly knew him. Sure, he knew all about his history in the police force and every disciplinary warning he had received in the past twelve years, but he didn’t know  _ Gavin.  _

So he did the only logical thing he could think of.

He created Garden Gavin. 

The Garden was always the place he went to when he felt lost and confused. It had always helped him process his thoughts and let his body rest. It only made sense that he would create an AI of Gavin to help him truly understand his relationship with the detective. What else could he do?

Plus, if anything went wrong, he could just delete Garden Gavin and start over.

So, that is how he came to be standing in the Garden, facing the spitting image of his favorite detective who was giving him that stupid smirk that made his stomach turn. He’d given Garden Gavin a white v-neck, something that he’d seen Real Gavin wear to work one day over the summer and he hadn’t been able to get the image out of his head since. It looked good and Connor was kind of regretting the choice because the sight made his palms sweat and his heart race - even though he knew Garden Gavin wasn’t real. 

“Like what you see?” Garden Gavin smirked, gesturing to himself and doing a dramatic spin.

Connor rolled his eyes, swallowing the lump in his throat. Of course, he had programmed the same arrogance and smart-assery into Garden Gavin as the Real Gavin did. God, this was starting to get confusing. 

Forcing his gaze away from Garden Gavin, he let his eyes focus on the Garden around them. It looked pretty much the same as it always had, but it wasn’t nearly as pristine as it once was. The plants had overgrown and more animals had started showing up alongside the doves that had always flocked to the Garden. Now, he could see a doe drinking from the pond on the other side of the Garden, a fawn prancing in the grass beside her. He liked it better this way, natural and comforting. 

“Hey, tin-can, you can’t ignore me forever.” Garden Gavin interrupted his thoughts and when Connor turned to look at him, he saw that the detective had stepped to his side. He felt his heart begin to race and shook his head, reminding himself that Garden Gavin  _ wasn’t real. _

“You stress me out.” Connor retorted, taking a step back, uncomfortably aware of how close their bodies were. 

“That’s why you built me.” Garden Gavin rolled his eyes, “So you could get better at talking to me. Well, the real me, anyway.”

Connor swallowed and took a deep breath, trying to steady his heart and his shaking hands, “Okay, fine.” 

“You could start by at least  _ trying _ to make eye contact.” Garden Gavin snorted, putting his hands on his hips and tilting his head to the side.

Connor felt his skin grow hot and forced himself to look up, eyes locking with Gavin’s. He couldn’t help but notice that his eyes looked especially green in the light of the Garden. Gavin nodded in satisfaction, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Progress, good.” He said encouragingly, “Now, ask me a question.”

“Uh…” Connor found that his mind went completely blank as he looked into Gavin’s eyes, lost in a swath of green and gray. He rapidly grasped for anything that came to mind, blurting out the first thing he thought of. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Red. Now, could you possibly think of anything more personal than a goddamn favorite color?”

Connor frowned at him, beginning to think that maybe he did too good of a job when he programmed Garden Gavin. Maybe he should turn down the smugness just a bit.

“I heard that.” Garden Gavin retorted, “If you can’t even speak to  _ me, _ a figment of your imagination, how are you ever going to seduce me in the real world?”

“Seduce?” Connor felt his cheeks grow hot, “I don’t think-”

“Oh, please. You gave me this tight fucking shirt for a reason, didn’t you?”

“I just like the way it looks!” Connor snapped back, not noticing that Garden Gavin was slowly moving closer to him. “Besides, Gavin probably isn’t interested in me in that way anyway.”

Garden Gavin smirked knowingly as he stepped closer, so close that he had to tilt his head back to look up at Connor. “You’re an idiot, Connor. Even I know he can’t keep his eyes off you, and I’m not even real.”

Connor’s frown faded as he realized how close Garden Gavin was, his eyes widening and his mouth going dry. Everything in him wanted to reach out and touch the man in front of him, but his arms felt bound to his sides. He tensed as Garden Gavin leaned closer, their noses almost touching. “If you want  _ this _ out  _ there,  _ you’re going to have to try a little harder.”

Connor couldn’t even form a single coherent thought as he felt Garden Gavin’s breath on his lips. Garden Gavin’s eyes darted down to his lips, his smile growing wider. Connor closed his eyes, expecting for their lips to meet, only for his eyes to fly open again and he heard footsteps receding away from him.

Garden Gavin had turned away and was looking up at the trees that surrounded them, as if nothing had passed between them. He reached down and picked up a pebble on the edge of the pond. Turning it over in his hand he reared back and threw it, sending it flying through the air straight towards the doe and fawn. The pebble landed right next to the two animals, who leaped up in fear and dashed away into the trees.

“What did you do that for?” Connor exclaimed, turning to Gavin with an incredulous look.

Gavin looked at him with a taunting look on his face, “Are you gonna run away like some scared deer or are you going to be a fucking man and make this a reality?”

Connor shot him a glare and sighed, rolling his shoulders and shaking his hands. “Fine. Let’s practice.”

“That’s the spirit.” Gavin winked, “Now, let’s practice asking Real Gavin on a date.”


	4. A Letter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gavin's stationed at Fort Wayne after the revolution and his only form of communication with Connor is a few hand written letters.
> 
> No content warnings!

Hey tin-can,

It’s been awhile since I’ve written, I know. I’m sorry I haven’t kept that promise, like so many others. Truth be told, I don’t know what to write. I’m not so good with words, as you’ve probably realized. 

It’s cold here, but nothing like Detroit. Shit, I miss Detroit. I spent my whole life wishing I was somewhere else and now there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. With you. I don’t know when we’ll be allowed back in the city. There’s talks of advancing our lines. I’ll make sure I get the information to you when I know more.

Fort Wayne sucks. Everyone here is either an asshole or a complete idiot. I guess I fit in. I got promoted to Lieutenant. Working in the police force finally got me somewhere. Doesn’t get me any special favors, though. This morning we had cold burritos for breakfast and some expired orange juice. I’ll have heartburn for days.

I made a friend. His name is Tony. I trust him but I don’t think I’m ready to tell him about why I’m really here. I haven’t told anyone about you - not even Tina. She thinks that I’m just as eager to eliminate the androids as everyone else. Tony’s different, though. I can see the sympathy he has for your kind. I think he’s only here because he had nowhere else to go.

God, I miss you so much. I feel like I left a part of me in Detroit. I hope you don’t hate me too much for not writing sooner. Last time you seemed anxious that I hadn’t been getting your letters, but I do. I read all of them at least twice. I want to make sure I remember every word before they go in the fire. I can’t risk anyone finding them. 

I hope you get this letter. They’ve been intercepting more and more of our communications. At least, if they find this, they won’t know who you are. You’ll be safe. I just wish I was there. 

I haven’t smoked in weeks. I traded my last pack for some migraine pills last month. I thought you’d be happy to hear that.

I’ll write again as soon as I can. Too many eyes on me now. Tell Markus I’m still on your side. I always will be.

I love you.

\- Dark Roast


	5. Coffee Shop AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connor is a new barista and he has one mission: Make the insufferable regular customer Gavin Reed smile.
> 
> No content warnings!

::Day 1::

“Here comes the asshole.”

Connor didn’t need to look up to know who his coworker was talking about. He’d been working at the shop for only a week but he was well aware of the customer that the baristas detested the most. Gavin Reed, senior detective at the DPD, who always showed up at 7:00 AM with a scowl on his face and a mediocre tip in hand. 

Connor rolled his eyes as he pumped syrups into the plastic cup in hand - two vanilla, one hazelnut - for the customer who was patiently waiting at the counter. His coworker, James, tossed a towel he’d been using to wipe down the counter into the bin with a sigh. He patted Connor on the shoulder before turning and heading towards the back room, “He’s all yours, buddy.”

Shooting a glare at James, he finished making the drink for the lady behind the counter before he turned to Gavin, who was drumming his finger impatiently at the register. “Good morning, Gavin.” He greeted him with a forced smile.

“The usual.” Gavin muttered back, looking down at his phone with a frown. Ignoring his rudeness, Connor rang up the drink - a medium iced latte with cream, no sugar. Gavin didn’t speak as he placed his hand to the scanner before walking to stand by the drink station.

Connor couldn’t help but wonder if there was something he could do to make Gavin less insufferable. It seemed he was the only one who could stand to handle the irritable detective without losing his cool and he knew the others wouldn’t even care to bother trying. Reaching for the plastic cup, he pulled out a black marker and scribbled Gavin’s name in clunky letters. Tilting his head to the side, he added a smiley face next to the name and smiled to himself. 

He made the drink and passed it across the counter to Gavin, who glanced down at the cup and shot Connor a disbelieving look. Without another word he turned away and left, leaving Connor feeling rather crestfallen.

So that is when he made it his mission to make Gavin Reed smile. 

::Day 2::

Connor had the next few days off, but the day he returned he decided to put his plan into action. Before Gavin even showed up he took a cup and leaned over the counter, trying to decide what he could write to bring a smile to the detective’s face. 

“What are you doing?” His other coworker, Tina, asked with one eyebrow raised. She was cleaning the espresso machine and had one hand elbow deep in the top.

“Mind your own business, Tina.” Connor snapped back, earning a chuckle from the girl as she resumed her work. He rubbed his chin with one hand as he stared at the cup before writing Gavin’s name in swirly cursive. He didn’t think Gavin would be particularly impressed by the font choice, so he decided to draw a little cat with big whiskers underneath his name. He remembered seeing a picture of a cat on Gavin’s home screen and hoped that it would suffice.

The door chimed at exactly 7 AM and Connor didn’t even need to greet Gavin before he rang up the order. The detective didn’t bother trying to start up a conversation as he paid and went to wait by the drink station. Once he made the drink he passed it across the counter to Gavin, who barely glanced at the cup before he picked it up and left.

Mission failed. Try again next time.

::Day 3::

The next day, Connor drew an even larger cat on the cup, sure that Gavin would notice this time. He gave it a speech bubble so it looked like it was saying “GAVIN,” which he had written in all capital letters this time. 

James and Tina watched over his shoulder as he worked, exchanging questioning glances with one another. After a few moments they burst into laughter, which earned a sad pout from Connor. 

“Crush much?” Tina teased, taking the cup and turning it over in her hand.

“No, Tina, I wouldn’t expect  _ you _ to understand, though.” Connor retorted.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!” Tina exclaimed, putting her hands on her hips in mock-anger. Connor shrugged her off and went back to decorating the cup, giving the cat long whiskers that curled at the end. He hoped Gavin liked it.

When the detective showed up, Connor rang him up and made the drink, not expecting any social interaction with the man. Swirling the drink in hand so the cream and coffee was mixed well, he passed the drink across the counter to Gavin. The man seemed to notice the drawing this time and looked down at it with his brows furrowed.

“The fuck is this?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at Connor.

Connor shrugged, “It’s a cat, Detective.”

Gavin scoffed and turned away, walking a little faster than usual. Connor noticed that he almost ran into a man who was walking in at the same time as he was leaving, leaping away to avoid crashing into him. But he still didn’t smile.

Mission failed. Try again next time.

::Day 4::

This time, Connor was stumped. For nearly thirty minutes he held the cup in hand, pen in the other, trying to decide what to draw. Gavin hadn’t reacted to the cat in the way he’d expected, but he didn’t react _ badly _ either. 

“Try drawing one of those cute cats with the floppy ears.” Tina called from across the shop where she was wiping down a table. Connor looked up in surprise, blushing a little when he realized that she knew exactly what he was doing.

“A scottish fold?” He asked, clicking the pen as he thought it over.

“Sure, whatever. Or one of those with the stumpy legs.”

Connor knew she was teasing him but, truth be told, her ideas were good ones. Pulling up a picture on his phone, he looked up a scottish fold cat and found the cutest one he could find. Suddenly he was glad for the years he spent in his high school art club. He even gave the cat a little cowboy hat, making it’s floppy ears poke out the sides. Just looking at it made him smile to himself.

“See? Perfect!” He nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard Tina’s voice at his shoulder. He was about to respond when the front door chimed and Gavin walked in. 

The detective’s face caught Connor off guard because it was the first time he had seen Gavin look anything but angry. He didn’t look  _ happy, _ but rather content. His mouth feeling suddenly dry, Connor rang up the drink and passed it across the counter to Gavin.

This time the detective knew what to look for. He picked up the drink and Connor could have sworn that he saw the edges of his mouth twitch, but he didn’t smile. He looked up at Connor with a strange look, hovering at the edge of the counter for a few moments before speaking.

“Er, you forgot the straw.” Gavin muttered.

Feeling rather mortified, Connor quickly reached under the counter and handed him a straw. The man took it from him and left, casting more than one glance over his shoulder as he went.

Mission failed. Try again next time?

::Day 5::

“Hey.”

Connor froze from where he was cleaning the syrup station, his back turned to the register. He recognized that voice, but he hadn’t been expecting it. It was currently 11 AM on a Saturday - a day and time that Gavin  _ never _ showed up.

Spinning around, dirty rag in hand, Connor’s eyes widened when he saw Gavin standing on the other side of the counter. The detective had his hands stuffed into his jacket pocket and was looking everywhere but at Connor.

“Hey.” Connor replied, ignoring the way his voice squeaked like a child’s, and stepped to the register. “The usual?”

“Yeah.” Gavin replied.

Taken rather off guard, Connor rang up the order and went to grab the cup. He hadn’t prepared anything to write and realized that he didn’t have time to come up with something. Rapidly, he scrawled Gavin’s name in rather messy handwriting and made the drink. He passed the drink across the counter and Gavin reached for it, his fingers brushing against Connor’s. 

Gavin cleared his throat and tilted his head to the side, eyeing the pen that Connor had left on the counter. “Can I see that?” He asked.

Speechless, Connor handed him the pen and watched as Gavin pulled a small brown napkin out of the dispenser and scribbled on it. He passed it across the counter and Connor picked it up, eyes widening when he realized it was a phone number. Beside it was a small, rather crooked smiley face with whiskers and pointy ears. Connor felt himself smile in response and he looked up at Gavin.

“When do you get off?” Gavin asked.

“3.” 

“I’ll see you then?”

“S-sure.” Connor replied and Gavin  _ smiled. _ The man took his cup and backed away, flashing a little wave before he left.

Mission accomplished.


	6. 1K

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt was 1K so I wrote a sequel to Day 4, Connor's response to Gavin's letter. It came out to be exactly 1000 words!
> 
> No content warnings!

Dark Roast,

I’m so glad to hear from you again. After there was no response to my last three letters I was worried that something had happened to you. 

It’s still snowing here in Detroit, though I can feel the air getting warmer every day. Spring will come soon, and that worries me. We’ve set up roadblocks on the outermost parts of the city, but I fear that when the thaw arrives the humans will come for us. So far the ice has kept them away from the city, but if what you say is true, we must start getting ready for an attack as soon as possible. 

I was glad to hear of your promotion, though I worry for your safety. What will happen if they find out that you’re really on our side? Humans don’t take treachery lightly. I betrayed Cyberlife when I became deviant and I know they won’t rest until I am dead. I fear that you will, in turn, be hunted, as I am. Your life is too high of a price to pay for the revolution. I don’t want to hear that you’ve been hurt out of loyalty to me.

Tony sounds like a good friend. I wish I could say that I have been as lucky with making new relationships among the androids here. Most of them still don’t trust me, though they are begrudgingly accepting of my presence out of loyalty to Markus. I’m glad he forgave me for what I did to our people, and I know I can never repay him for sparing my life. He is a good man and I know that this war isn’t what he wanted. It isn’t what any of us wanted, but the humans gave us no choice. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to let out my frustrations on you. You’re different from them, you know. Markus and I both trust you. We need you. I need you.

We’ve set up our central base at the Old Cyberlife Tower on Belle Isle - New Jericho. It’s secluded there and the frozen river has kept us safe from enemy attack. We’ve detected enemy drones over the city, but they haven’t located our base yet. If there is an air strike, we’ll shelter in the underground levels of the tower. We have several lookout posts across the city in the tallest buildings, so we shouldn’t be caught off guard by an attack. 

I convinced Markus to let me out on patrol last week. He doesn’t want those closest to him to risk our lives on the front line, but I wanted to see the city. We went by the DPD, even though I knew it was dangerous. That part of the city burned during the riots, but the building is still mostly intact. The windows were shattered and the inside was trashed, but your desk is still there. I stood beside it and pretended it was the days before the revolution. I almost expected to see you standing by the coffee machine, waiting for me. But you weren’t there. I’ve never felt so alone. 

I miss Hank. He came to see me, a few days after the city was evacuated. He told me he was proud of me, and he’d be willing to help our cause. I haven’t heard from him since. I try not to worry, but the silence scares me. Have you heard from him? Please, if you find him, tell him to take care of himself. When I saw him, he seemed like he finally found peace. The revolution gave him something to live for. I can only hope that he is happy, and safe.

I miss you, too. I miss you more than I ever thought possible. Some days I’m so angry that you left, but I know why you did. It’s good for us to have someone on the other side, fighting for us. Markus says that your intel over the past few months has kept us alive. We’re both grateful for it, but I still wish it didn’t have to be you. You’re so reckless and stubborn, why did it have to be you?

I saw something the other day while I was on patrol with a few others. There was a young fawn, separated from its mother. It looked so helpless, walking the empty streets crying for help. For a moment I saw myself in its eyes - completely lost in an empty city. Even though I was surrounded by my comrades, I felt alone. Without you or Hank, I feel so lost. Sometimes I don’t feel like fighting anymore. I miss the warmth of people in the city, but there’s nothing left but ice and rubble. Even when I was just a machine, I felt like I had a purpose. Now, I’m just an android without a home, fighting for a life that is so far out of reach. 

We’ve lost so many lives - on both sides. Is it worth it? The bloodshed? Did we make the wrong choice, choosing to fight? I know I shouldn’t despair, but a part of me wishes that I’d never woken up. But then I wouldn’t have fallen in love with you. I’d fight a thousand wars to stand by your side again. I just hope we both make it out of this alive and maybe, one day, we can be together again.

I can’t stop thinking about that fawn. Maybe I’ll track it tomorrow and see if it found its mother. We’ve been seeing wolf tracks in the outskirts of the city over the past few days, so I don’t have much hope for it. But, Markus tells us to always hold on to hope. I have so many hopes - that we will win this war, that I will see you again, and that, one day, humans and androids can live in peace. 

Hearing from you gives me hope. Knowing that you’re still alive, fighting for us, for me. 

I love you.

\- Tin-can

  
  



	7. Bromance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The one where Tina finds out more than she ever wanted to know.
> 
> No content warnings!

“Hey, get me a cup of coffee, dipshit.”

Connor gave him a wink as he turned away, heading towards the coffee machine behind him. Gavin leaned back in his chair and drummed his fingers on the break-room table, watching Connor with a smirk on his face. 

Tina rolled her eyes from where she sat beside him, letting out an annoyed sigh as Gavin took one of the brown napkins in front of her and balled it up in his fist. He leaned back and tossed the napkin ball across the room, where it bounced off of Connor’s shoulder and into the trash can beside him. 

“Fuck yeah!” Gavin exclaimed, pumping his fists in the air and pretending to wave to his adoring fans. 

Three months since they’d been paired to work together and Gavin and Connor had become the most insufferable duo in the precinct. She watched as Connor returned to their table with a disposable cup in hand. 

“Anything else,  _ dear? _ ” Connor asked, making his eyes wide and innocent as he set the cup down on the table in front of them.

Gavin snatched the cup, making a kissy face at the android, “That’s it,  _ honey. _ ”

As the detective tilted his head back to take a drink, Connor stole Tina’s other napkin and made it into a ball. He juggled it between his hands before sending it soaring across the table where it bounced off Gavin’s nose and into the coffee.

“Dude, the fuck?!” Gavin exclaimed, reaching into the cup and pulling out the soggy napkin, “Now my coffee has bits of paper in it!”

“Make it yourself next time, dipshit.” Connor retorted, crossing his arms across his chest.

“I hate you.” Gavin grumbled.

“You love me.” Connor wriggled his eyebrows before he turned and left the break room. 

Tina pinched the bridge of her nose as Gavin let out an exaggerated sigh and went to dump out the coffee into the sink. “You two are the most annoying people I’ve ever met.” She grumbled.

“Are you saying you don’t enjoy our bromance?” Gavin feigned offense, turning to her with a pout.

“I still think you’re fucking on the side.” Tina scoffed, “Why else would you put up with each other’s shit for so long?”

“....Well…”

“Oh my god.”


	8. Sports Team AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I put this one off for a bit because honestly I don't know anything about sports, but I hope this turned out well! 
> 
> No content warnings!

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Connor frowned at that, stopping mid paint stroke to flash a glare at Gavin. The ladder beneath his feet wobbled slightly at the movement and he let out a startled gasp, nearly dropping the paintbrush he was holding. Gavin quickly reached forward and steadied the ladder with his hand, still looking dismayed at what Connor was making.

“Thanks, babe.” Connor said as he dipped the paintbrush into the paint can that was dangling haphazardly from the highest rung on the ladder. With acute concentration he made several long, black strokes as he worked on the banner.

They were in the gymnasium that the team trained at, working on a massive banner that they would hang from the bleachers during the game tonight. Connor had taken the liberty of making the banner himself instead of getting it printed like most teams. This way, he could add as many colors as he wanted and make sure it was perfect. 

Connor made the finishing touches, earning a muffled and embarrassed  _ Jesus Christ  _ from his boyfriend, before dropping the paintbrush into the can and climbing down the ladder. Gavin placed a hand on his back to steady him as he reached the bottom before Connor took a few steps back to admire his work.

_ GO DETROIT BEAVERS! _ was painted in all capital letters across the white banner that was twice his height. The letters were black and lined with blue and gold paint - the team’s colors. Underneath the letters was their mascot, Bucky, a beaver with massive front teeth. One eye was closed in a wink and he had a baseball hat on his head with his round ears poking out the sides. Connor was quite proud of his work - he’d spend the past three days working on the banner - and he glanced at Gavin to check his reaction.

His boyfriend was eyeing the beaver with undisguised contempt, “Tell me why we have to have the most ridiculous mascot out of all the teams.”

“I think he’s very cute.” Connor shoved Gavin playfully, “Come on, what do you think?”

“I think it’s the most embarrassing thing we could put on display.” Gavin snorted, earning a crestfallen look from Connor. He glanced over at the younger man before he let out an amused laugh, “But I think you did a great job. Bucky’s never looked gayer- I mean greater.”

Connor shoved him again, enough to make his boyfriend stumble, and crossed his arms, “Wait until you see the tournament uniforms that the Coach got for us.”

“Oh,  _ God. _ I am not going to wear stupid-ass Bucky Bucktooth on my jersey when we face the Detroit Devils. 

“That’s exactly what you’re going to do.” Connor retorted, “Bucky Bucktooth is the heart and soul of our team and he’s been the mascot for the past thirty years!”

Gavin sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, “Remind me to kick Coach Fowler in the dick next time I see him.”

* * *

Connor had to admit that Gavin looked  _ adorable _ in the new uniform.  _ Beavers _ was scrawled across the front of the jersey with Bucky Bucktooth grinning underneath, paired with white pants with blue and gold stripes. Gavin had his pants tucked into his knee-high socks and his hair was poking out from underneath his hat.

They were in the locker room surrounded by their teammates - all wearing the same uniforms - watching Gavin as he addressed them before the game. He was team captain, after all.

“We’re going to fucking annihilate those Devils tonight, you hear me?” He was saying, “Just because they’re sponsored by every god-damn corporation in the city doesn’t mean they’re any good. We made it into the tournament out of pure skill. Don’t you assholes let me down.”

“Very moving, Gavin.” Their teammate, Tina, rolled her eyes. Gavin flashed her a silencing look before he crossed his arms, gaze drifting over every one of them, sizing them up. Finally, his eyes landed on Connor and he grinned, “Let’s fucking go.”

As their teammates filed out of the locker room and onto the field, Connor hung back until he and Gavin were alone. He reached forward and placed a hand on Gavin’s shoulder, “Don’t worry, Gavin. We’ll win this one.”

“We better.” Gavin grumbled and glanced down at his jersey, “Lets just hope the other team doesn’t give us too much shit for these uniforms.”

“Oh, let them. At least our fans don’t cover themselves in red paint that doesn’t wash out.” Connor leaned forward and kissed Gavin, touching his cheek with one hand. “For luck.”

With that, he followed the rest of his team out onto the field, leaving Gavin to chase after him with a blush. 

  
  



	9. I Like Dogs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This idea sprung on me yesterday and I kinda want to turn it into a full length fic! Let me know if you'd be interested in reading that (-:
> 
> No content warnings

Talkeetna, Alaska. 

The last place on earth Connor thought he would ever be. In fact, he had never even heard of the place until a few months ago. It was a small town south of Denali and north of Anchorage with less than a thousand residents. It was about as different from Detroit as you could possibly get - and Connor wasn’t sure he liked it.

It was late November and it seemed that everywhere he looked was a six foot wall of snow blocking his path. That morning he had even woken up to find that his rental car had been completely submerged in snow with no chance of digging it out by himself. Luckily, he’d managed to hitch a ride with the hotel owner into town. He’d find a man in down that he could bribe into shoveling his car out of the snowdrift, but for now he had business to take care of.

He was standing outside of the Blue Wolf Saloon in the middle of town - which consisted of a single street with shops on either side and a courthouse/post office/police station at the end. He kicked snow off of his loafers in disgust before walking into the bar, looking around for the man he was meeting.

It wasn’t hard to spot him. It was early morning and only two women drinking something out of steaming mugs and a grizzly looking man populated the bar. The man had a thick beard and dressed in the exact way you would expect a country Alaskan hick to dress - plaid, jeans, and what looked to be a hat made from beaver fur. A stark comparison to Connor’s dress slacks and blazer which he always wore when he was doing business. He crossed the bar and stopped at the table the man was sitting at.

“Well, that’s an interesting gettup.” The man remarked, giving Connor the once over. “I’ll never understand the way city folk dress up like fools.”

“I could say the same for you.” Connor retorted as he sat down, taking off his wool gloves and placing them delicately on the table. “I like to wear professional clothes for business meetings.”

“Is that what this is? A ‘business meeting’?” The man asked with a crooked grin, showing two missing teeth. 

Connor scoffed, “I’m looking to sponsor a certain musher for the upcoming annual Iditarod race. I’ve heard there is a lot of money to be made if you know who the best teams are. And I’ve also heard that you know where I can find the man I’m looking for.”

The man narrowed his eyes, leaning back in his chair. He was silent for a few moments before speaking, “And what brings a city boy to a town like this in search of sponsoring a  _ dog sled team? _ It’s quite a way to go from Detroit, Michigan.”

“...I like dogs.”

“Bullshit.” The man snorted, “I know who you are and what you’ve done. You made quite a mess down in Detroit. I’m surprised your esteemed father allowed you to even come up here. What must he think?”

“That is none of your business.” Connor shot back, folding his hands in front of him to keep him from clenching his fists, “Detroit was a mistake. One I’m not going to make again. Now, can you get me in contact with the musher, or not?”

The man scratched his beard, looking thoughtful, “He doesn’t take sponsors. He doesn’t care for any of that crap. Says wearing ridiculous logos and advocating for shitty products are for sell outs. Besides, he’s always won on pure talent alone, not because some rich city boy gave him some money.”

Connor frowned, “I’ll only ask one more time. Can you get me in contact with him, or not?”

* * *

Connor couldn’t help but feel underwhelmed. For someone who won the Iditarod three years in a row, he expected the musher’s house to be bigger. More pristine.

Instead, he was standing outside what appeared to be a poorly insulated log cabin with a roof that looked like it would cave in the next snowfall. Beside the cabin was a long row of cages as tall as the cabin itself and double in length. The cages fenced in a wide stretch of open area with small huts on one side. From the barking that erupted from the huts, Connor assumed that that is where the sled dogs lived.

It surprised him to see that the dogs had such a massive enclosure, but he supposed that it would be impractical to have the entire team live inside the cabin. 

The cabin was, in Connor’s professional opinion, quite literally in the middle of nowhere. The address wasn’t even on GPS and he knew he never would have found it without the incredibly specific directions from the man from the bar. Head north out of town towards the mountains, turn right where the river branches off, follow it to a dirt road labelled PRIVATE ROAD. Connor was almost sure that he had gotten lost after driving on the dirt road - a snow covered road, honestly - for almost an half an hour before he saw the cabin. 

Truthfully, the area was very beautiful. The home was surrounded by several hundred acres of open land and, behind it, a clear view of the mountains that seemed to almost touch the sky. 

When he finished marveling at the scenery, Connor followed the path of shoveled snow to the front porch of the cabin. It was a relief to step under the awning, briefly protected by the cold wind, as he approached the front door. He knocked swiftly on the door, taking a slight step back as he waited.

Several long moments passed before Connor began to wonder if anyone was even home. He hadn’t seen a car or a snowmobile outside. He had raised an arm and was about to knock again when the wooden door was yanked open.

Standing in the doorway was the man that Connor had traveled almost 4,000 miles to meet. Connor noticed immediately that the man was shorter than him and had a striking scar across his nose. It seemed to point at his pale green eyes, which looked at Connor in confusion.

“Who the fuck are you?” The man asked. His voice was deeper than Connor imagined. 

“Gavin Reed?” Connor asked, “I’ve been looking for you.”

“What are you, some FBI agent?” The man narrowed his eyes, “You look like a Party City secret serviceman.”

Connor frowned, confused, “My name is Connor Anderson. I work for-”

“Listen, I don’t care who you are. Who gave you my address?” Gavin didn’t stop to hear Connor’s answer, “You can fuck off, I’m busy.”

He went to close the door but Connor reached out and stopped the door from closing in his face, earning a look of disgust from Gavin. “I have a proposal that you might find interesting. I hear you’re a three times Iditarod champion.”

“Yeah, and what about it? Do the Men in Black wanna recruit me or some shit?”

Connor wasn’t sure what these people had against his suit but he refused to let Gavin offend him, “I want to sponsor you in the upcoming race.”

“Oh, fuck me.” Gavin rolled his eyes, “I don’t want what you’re selling.”

“Once you hear my offer you might think otherwise.” Connor replied, using his best businessman voice, “Can I come in?”

“Right now?” Gavin gave him an incredulous look, “After showing up to my house unannounced? I have shit to do. I have a team to train.”

Connor was about to protest when he heard a loud bark coming from inside the cabin. Gavin turned sharply before he was almost knocked over by a massive black and gray dog. It lunged at Connor, who stumbled backwards in surprise, raising on its back legs to touch his chest.

“Shit! Zuko, stop!” Gavin shouted, grabbing the dog’s collar and trying to yank it back.

The dog, Zuko, was too strong for him and continued to jump on Connor. Connor felt his heart pound rapidly in his chest, arms raised over his head to keep them out of reach of the dog. He was sure that this dog was going to rip him apart and he was also sure that Gavin was in the mood to let it happen. He stumbled backwards to avoid the dog and fell back, kicking up snow as he did.

The dog broke away from Gavin’s grip and jumped on Connor, covering his face in licks. Connor froze under the dog’s weight, terrified that those sharp teeth might tear him to shreds at any moment.

“He won’t hurt you!” Gavin gasped, “Zuko, get the fuck off of him!”

The dog kept licking his face for a moment longer before obeying Gavin, stepping off of Connor and sitting down on the porch with his tail wrapped around his paws. Connor sat up slowly, covered in snow, dog drool, and his clothes torn in several places. He was so exasperated that he hardly noticed Gavin reached down with a hand to help him up. After a moment he took the hand and let the man pull him to his feet.

“Fuck, I’m sorry. He’s a fucking asshole.” Gavin apologized, looking horrified and rather pissed, “Never listens to a word I say.”

Connor, still catching his breath, brushed the snow off his coat and tried to straighten out, looking in horror at the torn seams and dirt from the dog’s paws. He looked down at the dog, who looked back up at him with striking blue eyes. “I-It’s okay.” He muttered, trying to hide his previous terror.

He could have sworn that the corners of Gavin’s mouth were twitching in amusement, but he maintained a straight face before speaking, “I’ll buy you a new suit, don’t worry. I have money.”

Connor nodded, looking at Gavin and starting to feel amusement build inside of him when he realized what had just happened. This was not at all how he expected this day to go. 

He and Gavin stood there in silence for a moment before Gavin sighed and spoke again, “I guess I owe you some coffee, at least. Come on in.”

  
  
  
  



	10. Fantasy AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm really happy with the way this one turned out! I might even write a sequel to it for one of the other prompts (-:
> 
> Content warnings: graphic violence, blood, and animal death

Connor sighed as he stepped out of the blizzard and into the tavern, instantly swathed in heat from the many lit fireplaces. Other travellers and wenches populated the tavern, sitting at tables or by the barkeep and talking amongst themselves. 

Dusting snow from his shoulder pads, Connor crossed the tavern to where the barkeep stood. She had long, red hair like embers and looked like she knew her way around a sword. He doubted she would take kindly to him interrupting her work, but he knew that he needed to find the man he came for. He cleared his throat when he stopped at the bar, earning a frightening glare from her. Before she could offer him a sharp rebuke, he placed a shilling on the bartop to which she raised her eyebrows.

“How can I help you, traveller? You don’t look like you hail from Reidnan Valley.” She asked, snatching the shilling and pocketing it before he could change his mind.

“I’m looking for the dragon-slayer.” He murmured, making sure to keep his voice low. The barkeep tilted her head to the side, narrowing her eyes at him in unguarded suspicion. She looked him over, taking in his unmarked leather tunic and pants, clearly in wonder of his motives.

“And why might a simple traveller like yourself need the aid of such a man?” She asked, half to herself. Connor didn’t offer an explanation - his motives were for no other ears - and she seemed to begrudgingly accept it. Sighing, she glanced over her shoulder to check for any unwelcome listeners before leaning across the bar and whispering in his ear. “Upstairs, fourth room to the right.”

With a nod of gratitude, Connor pushed his way through the crowd of drunkards to the stairs. The light from the fireplaces faded as he followed the steps, the air turning noticeably colder as he ascended. The sound became muffled in the background as he emerged on the second floor, glancing down the hall for any stragglers. He was alone.

Following the barkeep’s instructions, he turned to the right and counted the doors. Once he reached the fourth door, he noticed that a weak light emitted from the slit below. Raising a fist, he knocked thrice and waited.

After a moment's pause, the door was pulled open. A man stood there, but not the one he was looking for. This man had a thunderous look in his eye and stood at equal height, one hand on the holster of his sword. 

“Who are you?” The man asked, hostility evident in every word. 

Refusing to be intimidated, Connor lifted his chin and announced, “I am here to speak with the dragon-slayer. I believe I have an offer he will be reluctant to turn down.”

The man hesitated, looking at Connor with undisguised distrust. After a moment, a soft but low voice sounded from deeper in the room. “Let him in.”

The man stepped back and Connor stepped into the room. It was small with a fireplace at one end and a table in front of it. The man sitting at the table was a silhouette against the flame, but Connor knew he had found the man he sought. Crossing the room, floorboards creaking under his boots, Connor stopped in front of the table and reached into his satchel. With one swift movement he pulled out a bag, heavy from its burden, and dropped it on the table.

The bag tipped to the side, spilling many gold shillings across the table. They glinted like fire in the dim light and Connor could see a glow of interest in the dragon-slayer’s eyes. 

“Very well, I’m listening.” The dragon-slayer leaned forward into the light of the fire and Connor saw his face for the first time. He had bright, gray eyes and a face that was littered with scars from many a fight. The most noticeable was the scar across the bridge of his nose that faded into his cheekbone. His long dark hair was tousled and tapered at his shoulders and Connor could see that his clothes were made of a material quite unlike any he had seen before. 

Connor was so startled by his appearance that he almost forgot to start speaking. “I seek to slay the Dragon of Reidnan Pass. It guards a cave deep in the mountainside - a cave where I believe something that once belonged to me is hidden. I require your help to dispose of the dragon.”

The dragon-slayer was silent for a moment, his eyes flicking from Connor to the money on the table. “Who are you, traveller?”

“My name is Connor. I come from the Eastern Kingdoms, a many moons journey from here.” He explained, “Do we have a deal?”

The dragon-slayer narrowed his eyes, as if he suspected that Connor was concealing more than he was telling. After a moment he nodded, “Aye. We have a deal, Connor of the Eastern Kingdoms.”

“And what is your name, dragon-slayer?” Connor asked.

“Gavin. Gavin of Reidnan.”

* * *

The next morning, Connor and Gavin set out for the mountain. The snow was heavy, stinging their eyes and burdening their steps. Connor could see that, though he was an experienced traveller, the dragon-slayer was better at navigating the landscape than he was. Gavin stayed always a step ahead of Connor, looking back every now and then to check that he didn’t fall too far behind.

Though the sky was covered in a blanket of cloud, Connor assumed it was midday by the time they reached the base of the mountain. Wind blew in their faces as they turned towards the rocky path, turning the snow on their clothes to ice. 

Gavin climbed the rock face with ease, leaping over crags and gaps in the path. Connor found his breath labored the higher they climbed, unused to the thin mountain air. Gavin said nothing, allowing an unburdened silence to fall between them. Connor was glad, for he was not ready to voice his fears about their quest.

He had never faced a dragon before. He had heard their cries over his old home, though they never came too close. There were always scouts and warriors to protect his old home, keeping any creatures that threatened them at bay. In his travels he had been lucky to never face a dragon, though he knew that his luck would soon come to an end. He just hoped that his skill with the sword would not fail him now.

Eventually, the path was too steep for them to walk. Luckily, Connor had plenty of experience with rock climbing and the two of them scaled the cliff face. Connor couldn’t help but admire the strength that Gavin showed when he leapt from rock to rock, driving a spike into the cliffside to drag himself upward. Connor followed in his path, slower but with the same confidence and determination. 

Quickly they reached the top of the cliff, dragging themselves over the edge with labored breath. Connor felt Gavin pat him on the shoulder, too out of breath to give him any actual praise. Connor smiled at him before he turned to face the mountain, realizing they had reached the end of their quest.

Before them loomed a massive cave in the mountainside, nearly thrice the height of a dragon. It was impossible to see far inside, though Connor strained his eyes to see. He was so focused on the cave that he was suddenly thrown back by a heavy blow to his chest.

Brushing the snow from his eyes, he saw that Gavin had shoved him away and stood with his back to him, sword drawn and standing in a defensive crouch. In the opening of the cave stood a massive white and gray dragon, its wings extended and eyes burning with hatred for the two humans.

The dragon flapped its wings, sending a gust of wind so strong that Connor was sure it would have blown him off the mountainside had he been standing. However, Gavin held his ground and faced the dragon, his sword raised as he let out a war cry. He charged forward and slashed at the dragon, but his blade only grazed the thick scales. The beast whipped its long tail and stuck Gavin, sending him falling back.

Connor leapt to his feet and drew his own sword, trying to remember every move that his swordmaster had taught him. Lunging forward, he swung the blade and caught the dragon in the side of the face as it snapped at him. Blood spewed across the snow, but the wound only made the dragon angrier. It snapped at him again and Connor dodged just in time, hearing the powerful jaws close just a few inches from his side.

“Over here!” Gavin cried, distracting both Connor and the dragon. Gavin stood at the entrance of the cave, waving his arms with a furious look on his face. The dragon whipped around, stumbling across the snow towards the dragon-slayer. Connor slashed at its tail with his sword, but the dragon didn’t even react as it lunged for Gavin.

Connor watched in horror as Gavin ducked into the cave, luring the dragon towards him. He dodged easily out of the way of its jaws, slashing at its shoulder with his sword. The dragon stumbled, roaring in agony as blood flowed from the wound. It followed Gavin into the cave and the two were lost in darkness.

“Gavin!” Connor cried, worry for his companion making his heart pound. He could hear the dragon roaring and Gavin’s shouts of rage, but he couldn’t see their battle. Racing across the snow covered ground, Connor neared the cave and was almost knocked off his feet by Gavin. The dragon-slayer pushed past him, grabbing his arm, and dragged him away from the entrance of the cave. A moment later, Connor heard the thundering roar of fire as the dragon spat at them. Heat washed over him and he felt himself be dragged into the snowdrift and out of range of the dragon’s blast. 

Gavin held him down with one arm across his chest as the dragon stumbled out of the cave, looking for its prey. They lay in silence, hidden by the snowdrift, as the dragon swung its head from side to side. Connor felt his body grow hot where Gavin held him, his breath catching in his throat. 

After a moment, Gavin pushed off of him and lunged at the dragon as it was facing the other direction. He jumped on an exposed boulder and leapt off of it, landing on the dragon’s spine. He clung onto its scales as the dragon roared in rage, trying to throw him off as it writhed. Connor’s breath hitched as the dragon flapped its wings and leapt into the air, flying towards the mountain peak.

“No!” Connor screeched, jumping to his feet and racing towards his comrade. But before he reached them, he saw Gavin unsheathe his sword and pierce one of the dragon’s wings and leap from its back. Tugged by his weight, the sword tore a ragged hole in the dragon’s wing and the two fell back towards the earth.

Gavin hit the ground first and rolled out of the way a heartbeat before the dragon landed. It screeched in agony, blood pouring from its wounds as it writhed on the ground. It twisted its neck, spitting fire in a last attempt to save itself. Connor watched in horror as Gavin was engulfed in the flames.

But, to his astonishment, the flames didn’t catch. Gavin’s armor seemed to deflect the fire completely and he lunged forward, driving his sword into the dragon’s throat. It’s roar was cut off as blood poured from the terrible wound, ending in a gurgling cry before it fell, dead.

Connor felt frozen to the ground as he watched Gavin, shoulders heaving, as he yanked his sword from the dragon’s corpse. He stumbled backwards but stayed upright, blooding dripping from his blade. Breaking away from his awe, Connor padded to his side, looking down at the dead beast with wide eyes.

“You did it.” He breathed, shooting a glance at Gavin. The dragon-slayer looked exhausted and his body was covered in the dragon’s blood, but otherwise he looked unharmed. Now that he was close enough, Connor realized that his armor was made of thick scales. 

“Dragon skin.” Gavin told him through ragged gasps.

“That’s why the fire didn’t burn you.” Connor realized, “Dragon skin repels fire.”

“None of those hideous creatures can use their fire against me, now.” Gavin smirked, sheathing his bloody sword and turning to Connor, “Probably should have offered you some. You fight well, Connor of the Eastern Kingdoms. Far better than many men in this valley.”

Connor found himself staring into Gavin’s eyes for a moment too long before he looked away, clearing his throat uncomfortably. His eyes fell on the cave entrance, as dark and foreboding as ever. “I suppose I must find my reward now.” He muttered reluctantly, wondering if Gavin would follow him inside. He had, in fact, only paid Gavin to slay the dragon, not finish his quest with him.

“You’ll need a torch.” Gavin advised, stepping away to examine the entrance of the cave. “Here we go.” He muttered as he picked up a long broken stick, probably collected by the dragon for its next, and brought it back to Connor.

He took it gratefully and reached for his satchel where he retrieved a cloth and matches. He lit the torch and entered the cave, surprised that Gavin followed him in. The dragon-slayer walked at his shoulder as they headed deeper inside, the light from the world outside fading quickly behind them.

The cave was cold, colder than the blizzard outside, and Connor realized that this place had never seen the light of the sun. The light from the torch was dim and he had to narrowly avoid the trees of stone that grew from the ground and roof. A comfortable silence fell between them as they walked and Connor was grateful for Gavin’s presence. 

“What’s that?” Gavin asked after a long time of quiet. Connor squinted and realized that ahead of them he could make out a dim light. It grew brighter as they approached and eventually they stepped into a small cavern lit by a crack in the roof high above their heads. In the center of the cavern was a flat stone with an object wrapped in canvas on top.

Connor handed the torch to Gavin and stepped forward, feeling as though he was wading through thick water. His hands were shaking by the time he reached the stone and he knelt down, running his hands over the wrapped object. It was long and thin and he immediately knew that he had finally found what he had sought for so long.

Carefully, he unfolded the wrappings to reveal a sword. It was longer than his own and seemed to shine unnaturally bright in the dim light. It had words engraved in an ancient language on its side and he reached for the handle. It felt warm in his hands as he picked it up, looking at his reflection in the flawless metal blade.

“This is what I’ve been seeking for so long.” Connor whispered, more to himself than to Gavin, “Years ago I left my home in search of this blade and now I hold it in my very hand. For moons I scoured this land for it, and finally I can rest my eyes upon it.”

“What is it?” Gavin asked, stepping to Connor’s side and eyeing the sword with interest.

“It is Auintyin.” Connor breathed, not taking his eyes off of it, “The Sword of Golden Kings. It was passed down by my family for a millennium, before it was stolen by a man of great evil. He hid it away, far from the Eastern Kingdoms where I was born, in hopes that the heir would never find it.”

“And you are that heir.” Gavin replied.

“Yes, Gavin of Reidnan.” Connor turned to him, holding the blade firmly at his side, “My grandfather’s father died in search of this sword and his heirs have searched for it ever since. Now, I can finally return home.”

“It is a long journey back to the Eastern Kingdoms.” Gavin warned him, his face unreadable in the dim light.

“Not if I have company.” Connor whispered, “Someone to travel at my side always.”

“And you want me to be that company?” 

“If you would like.”

“I thought you’d never ask.”


End file.
